I like it when readers of this column stop me on the street to talk. Usually. There are a few folks - easily separated into two camps, community "boosters" and the politically doctrinaire - who can be a bit annoying, but talking to "my" readers is usually something I enjoy.
Which brings me to this morning's initial topic: the Alaskan Way Viaduct controversy.
It's my opinion that for every genuine community issue - unsafe crosswalks, rising crime stats involving firearms, gentrification, homelessness - there is a false issue, one created by politicians and businessfolk. These issues always have one underlying feature: there's money to be made somewhere close by.
I hang out with six distinctly diverse groups of people nowadays. I see at least one member of each of these groups every week. I learned early in life, from watching a paternal uncle who was a lifelong bachelor, and a maternal aunt who turned down four marriage proposals to remain a lifelong spinster, that there are two ways to be single.
My uncle, who was miserable and died young (60), lived with his mother, my maternal Grammie, until she died in her 80s; he then spent the last decade of his life totally alone.
My uncle went to his post office job and came home five days a week. He sorted mail for 40 years and never once brought home a work buddy. Never had a date, as far as I know. Spent weekends with his mom, going out on Saturdays to the library (ironically he loved travel books), then the grocery store, then Confession. Sunday was Mass and yardwork.
Except for family, he saw nobody.
Auntie, on the other hand, was active in the lives of her nieces and nephews when not working (she was a private secretary), or playing on her bowling and golf teams, or going to her card clubs. She, too, was a churchgoer, but in addition to Confession and Mass she volunteered at her parish. And when one of her nephews came home from the service in the late '60s in a slightly-altered-for-the-worse state (drugs), she took him in when his own family couldn't.
As I've mentioned before, I was married for 12 years to the mother of my children and, after the failure of my marriage, put in another six or seven years with a younger European woman. But when the latter relationship ended, in 1993, I decided - nearly 50 and enmeshed in single-parenting my two by-then-teenage daughters - I was opting for bachelorhood for the remaining time allotted to me.
It was then I remembered Auntie and Uncle. I knew to be successfully single I needed a diverse crew of friends and needed to stay close to my kids.
I go to dinner every Saturday night with four guys in their mid-50s. I've known three of them for more than 15 years. I've known the fourth guy for five years. One is a newspaper reporter for one of our dailies. One is a criminal defense attorney. One is a poet, and one has worked for local theaters for more than a decade. Two are divorced; two are lifelong bachelors.
None of them has ever mentioned the Alaskan Way Viaduct.
None of us live in West Seattle. None of us are developrs, contractors or "public servants." We discuss Bush, crime, sports, women, food, wine, writing and film. No viaduct.
I lunch weekly with the editor of this newspaper; occasionally another editor joins us. We talk about film, books and newspapers. We have never talked about the viaduct.
I see my two daughters, now young women in their late 20s, at least once a week. I also talk with both of them via telephone twice a week. We talk about work (one is a successful broker), school (one is a grad student at U-Dub) and my grandkids. We have never talked about the Alaskan Way Viaduct.
I have become close to some Thai folks who work in the neighborhood. A couple of years ago I even went to Thailand with one of them. My Thursday golf partners are Thais. We talk about golf and its perversities. We talk about Thailand and Asian politics. We talk about America and its cultural incomprehensibilities (for them). I'm not sure they even know there is an Alaskan Way Viaduct.
I spend a couple of nights a month in Belltown clubs doing the door for some local bands. I worked with some of these kids, in their 20s and 30s, on day jobs, and discovered I still enjoy brief visits to the current punk rock and alt music scenes. We talk about rock and roll, girls and sometimes drugs (although I haven't indulged in 20 years). We NEVER talk about the Alaskan Way Viaduct.
I am currently hanging out with two women, one in her 40s, one nearing 30. The older of the two lives in West Seattle and has mentioned the viaduct. She voted no no in the latest election and asked me to do the same. I said I would but didn't get around to it. Because I don't care. And nobody I know, except this sole West Seattleite, gives a damn either.
If it is truly unsafe - something I am not sure I believe, given our mayor's penchant for projects - shore it up. We have enough parks, enough condos and enough public green spaces.
Help the homeless. Get the guns away from the teens, and get the thousands of poor King County residents without insurance some free or reasonable health care. The viaduct is a false issue. Most people outside of West Seattle don't give a damn.[[In-content Ad]]
